Do I Look Like I'm Dead?
by StatsGrandma57
Summary: A father-son conversation between Han and Ben.
DO I LOOK LIKE I'M DEAD?

Leia was exhausted, and it was only early afternoon. Fortunately, Luke had sensed that the last thing she wanted to discuss was her son, and had returned to the tiny apartment he kept on Coruscant. As much as she loved Ben, right now the princess needed time to think, to reground herself, and to do nothing more complicated than play with her youngest daughter.

After giving Kira her lunch, Leia and her daughter were sitting on the sofa, playing with one of Kira's puzzle games. By the frequency of the little one's yawns, it looked like naptime was near. Han saw the mingled weariness and pain on his wife's face, and realized it might soon be naptime for her as well. The morning had been difficult.

"I'll get Jana," Han volunteered.

Leia smiled gratefully; Han knew her better than anyone. "She usually takes the hovertram with her friends," she explained. "If you get there now, you should be able to catch her. Of course, she'll probably insist that her friends come, too," Leia warned. "Shrieking and giggling will be involved." Kira was nodding off in her mother's arms; Leia began to relax with her warm dozing daughter.

Han sighed. "After this morning, shrieking and giggling might be a welcome change." He grabbed his jacket and headed for the apartment exit.

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Han thought he'd enjoy the innocent exuberance of his daughter and her friends, but right now, trying to navigate a speeder filled with squealing ten-year-old girls through the thick Coruscant traffic, he realized his mistake. It was giving him a pounding headache.

"Daddy, can you take us to the Capitol City Plaza?" Jana asked him, a suggestion that was accompanied by shrieks of delight and giggled pleas from her friends. The Plaza was jammed with retail shops, eateries, kaf bars, and live music, and seemed to be primarily occupied by young beings interested in making inordinate amounts of noise. Han loathed the place.

Han was about to inform her she was already pushing her luck when his comm went off. "What?" he answered irritably.

"Captain Solo?" a droid voice queried.

"Yes," Han responded warily. He could see by the i.d. that it was the medcenter. What else could possibly have gone wrong? "Girls, would you keep it down to a roar!" he ordered his daughter and her friends.

"This is Coruscant Central Medcenter. Your son Ben would like you to come to see him," the droid voice informed him.

Han groaned. He was desperately worried about Ben, but he wasn't sure if seeing him was the best idea; things had been pretty rough with him this morning. On the other hand, Ben did ask for him. Maybe, Han hoped, that meant that his son would be willing to have a real discussion with him, and not behave like a total jerk.

Han heaved a guilty sigh. He loved his son desperately, but at the moment what he really needed was to get rid of four young girls, have a drink, lie on the sofa and watch smashball. Gods, it had been a day.

"I'll be there shortly," he said into the comm.

"So Daddy, can we go to the plaza? Please?" Jana pleaded.

"I'll drop you there," Han said, through gritted teeth.

 _Remember, you wanted to be a father,_ he reminded himself.

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Han approached the medcenter with both a sense of dread, and of hope.

Hope because his son had specifically asked for him to be there; dread because he had no idea what the boy wanted him for. And he never knew which son he was getting; Ben could switch gears faster than the _Falcon_ went to hyperdrive. By the time he arrived, his son very well might have changed his mind.

Speeder parking at the medcenter was limited, cramped, and to Han's mind, deliberately poorly designed, which was also his opinion of

Coruscant in general. He hated the city-planet: the noise, the congestion, and the politics—not to mention most of the politicians. The celebrity culture drove him insane, especially while he and Leia were having some very private problems. Fortunately, due to his family's notoriety, he'd been given a passcard for the service entrance in back, enabling him to avoid the media gaggle out front.

And there were those who wondered why he still carried a blaster full time.

The cooks and laundry droids greeted Han with a wave, accustomed to seeing him. He returned the gesture; Han Solo was still a working man, and he respected all those who performed labor of any kind.

Leaving the work areas, Han wandered into the corridors of the medcenter. Attempts had been made to make it more cheerful with the use of pastel colors and soft artwork, but to Han, it simply emphasized how cold and clinical the surroundings were.

And the furniture, in his opinion, was a crime against nature. His back had yet to recover from the nights he spent in Ben's room, and sadly, it looked like they weren't going to be through with the medcenter any time soon.

Han loved being a dad, and he remembered all the fun he'd had with Ben while growing up. The boy had inherited his father's mechanical aptitude, and was an instinctively good pilot; they'd spent many hours together, and most of them had been enjoyable until Ben had turned twelve. He'd always been a moody and difficult boy, and there had been the occasional tantrum, but until that point, Han had been able to guide him with a firm and loving hand.

Han was no longer sure if that was enough, but it was what he had.

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Arriving at the desk, Han saw that the human nurse was on duty, rather than the droid who'd notified him. She smiled and handed him his visitor's passcard.

"How's he doing?" Han asked quietly.

"He's pretty shaken up. He got very violent after you and your family

left. We sedated him, but when he came to ask me to comm you, he was trembling. I asked him if he wanted something more to calm him, but he said no, he wanted you. He's waiting."

"Thanks," Han said, disturbed that there'd been another incident. He hadn't been informed of that when they'd comm'd him, and that bothered him, too. Hopefully, Ben hadn't had a bad reaction to the drugs they'd given him; that had happened to his son before.

With some trepidation, Han approached Ben's plasticine cubicle. Ben was curled under a blanket, clearly upset, but quiet.

"Ben," Han called softly. Ben's eyes flashed open in alarm, but his expression became one of relief when he saw his father. With the blanket wrapped around him, Ben climbed awkwardly out of bed and shuffled over to Han. Han wrapped his arms around his son, holding him close. Ben was still shivering, but he welcomed the embrace. Han could feel how thin his son was; he hadn't been eating much, and Ben had been slender to start with.

The one thing Ben wasn't doing was crying. He was clearly upset, but the storm of tears appeared to be over. Han gently led him to the edge of the bed, where they both sat down, Han's arm over his son's shoulders.

"What's going on, buddy?" Han asked him gently.

"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you," Ben said, his voice a thin vibrato.

Han smiled tenderly at the boy. "Son, I've flown from one end of this galaxy to the other and I've seen a lot of strange stuff. So try me."

Ben's dark brown eyes met his father's greenish-amber ones. "I had a visitor. I mean, not a real visitor, but a not-it was Ben Kenobi. My...uh, namesake."

Han nodded.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Ben asked, hurt in his expression.

"I absolutely do," Han assured him, holding him close. He had no reason to doubt his son. Even Leia had Force visions on rare occasions and, like Ben, they unsettled her.

"It was weird. Scary," Ben said. "He's real quiet like, but he freaked me out. A lot."

Ben continued to lean against his father. Han ruffled Ben's longish, dark hair that was the color of his mother's, the way he'd done when his son was a little boy. Ben didn't object to the gesture.

"I keep thinking about what the old guy said," Ben continued. "He's like Uncle Luke, saying I'm gonna go to the Dark Side, and it bugged the kriff outta me. I'm so tired of hearing it." Ben looked at his father again. "But I'm scared, too. Old Ben says he was friends with my grandfather. He trained him, too."

"And look how well that turned out," Han said, rolling his eyes, but shuddering as well. "He tortured your mom, his own daughter." Han's face darkened with fury. It was easier for him to walk away from the fact that Vader had tortured him and put into carbon freeze than it was to forgive the beast for what he'd done to Leia; he would never forgive that for as long as he lived. As far as Han was concerned, some grudges were meant to be held. Forever and beyond, if at all possible.

Ben eyed his father suspiciously. "Uncle Luke never told me that."

"Yeah, well, your uncle Luke's got a little different perspective on his old man than your mom does. For one thing, Vader didn't blow up your uncle's home planet like he did your mom's."

"He made her watch the whole thing. And that was after he did some pretty horrible things to her, used an interrogation droid. And you know what? She held her own," Han proclaimed with pride. "You can ask her if you think I'm making this up."

Shock and horror registered in Ben's face; he'd not been aware that his mother was forced to watch Alderaan blasted into space dust, nor did he know about the interrogation droid. They never taught that in school.

"She never says anything about it," Ben pointed out.

"It's not exactly her favorite topic of conversation, and she's never made a big deal about it. But she'd be honest with you if you asked,"

Han assured him.

"Are you just telling me this so I'll go with losing my Force sensitivity?" Ben asked rather sharply, but there was as much fear as there was annoyance in the question.

Han hugged him. "Kid, I'm not trying to make you do anything. I'm just telling you that your grandpa's life was no happily ever after."

Ben was silent and tense, but allowed his father to keep him close. Han rubbed his broad hand over Ben's back, trying to soothe the boy.

At long last, Ben spoke, very softly. "I don't like feeling like this. But if I lose the Force...what if I feel like I'm dead?"

Han gave his son his trademark cocky grin. "Son, I've never been Force-sensitive. Hells, I don't think I've ever been sensitive, period. But seriously, take a look. Do I look like I'm dead?"

That remark actually brought a smile to Ben's face. "Dad, you're like the least dead person out there. Though I think Mom has moments when she wishes you were." The boy's smile grew.

"More than you know, kid," Han said, shaking his head, but smiling, too. "That she hasn't murdered me yet proves how lucky I am."

Ben had stopped trembling, but Han still held him close. His son was quiet, and seemed to be content to be with his father. In fact, Ben was as relaxed as Han had seen him in a very long time.

"Dad?" Ben asked softly.

"What is it?" Han asked, twisting to look at the boy.

"What do you think it'll feel like...if I let Uncle Luke...well, you know?"

Han swallowed as he contemplated what to tell his son. No point in lying to the boy; kids never bought in, anyway. Also, not being Force-sensitive, he had no idea what the experience would be like.

"I'm going to guess that in the beginning, it probably won't feel too good," he said finally. "It's a big change, and a tough one. Huge changes, even when they're good, can be pretty scary."

Ben nodded, and tears began to pool in his dark eyes.

"I'm scared," he whispered. "I'm such a wimp. I just wanna be like you. You're never scared."

Han barked out a surprised laugh. "Oh, I get scared a lot," he confessed. "Especially when your mom's giving me The Look." They both chuckled; everyone who knew Leia recognized The Look, and anyone with a grain of sense withered beneath it. Then Han grew serious. "It's not about not being afraid, kid. It's about being afraid, and doing what you have to anyway."

Ben nodded solemnly.

"Fear's a warning. It doesn't mean don't poke the gundark with the stick, but know that the gundark's gonna fight back and you better be prepared," Han reminded him. "It's good that this worries you, actually. It means you're ready for what comes next."

"I doubt that," Ben retorted. "'Cause I have no idea what comes next."

"None of us do," Han told him. "But that's life."

The tears that had welled in Ben's eyes were now trickling down his cheeks. "Kenobi told me...well, that there some things so strong in the current of the Force...he didn't say it, but it was like, if I kept being Force-sensitive, bad things would happen to me."

Han hugged him. "I thought Kenobi was a crazy old man when I met him, but he's been right about a lot of things. He was right about your uncle," Han pointed out. "And besides, if I hadn't taken that job, well, my life would've been a lot different. A lot less good, too."

"You think I should listen to him?" Ben asked, obviously very upset and nervous again. Han pulled his son closer, rocking Ben gently against him.

Han sighed, his face in Ben's thick, dark hair. "I don't think you should ignore him." His son's tears soaked the shoulder on his shirt, and while Han might have not been Force-sensitive, he was certainly a father, and his son's pain racked through him.

Ben and Han sat there for a long time, until Ben had calmed somewhat. Finally, Ben released his death-grip on Han and looked straight at his father, dark brown meeting green-amber. Ben's were red-rimmed but there was a sense of purpose in them, something Han hadn't observed in a long, long time.

"You told me I couldn't come home again the way I am." There was a hint of accusation in Ben's voice, but it was muted.

Han's look was one of both firmness and compassion. "I can't take that risk, son. Not for you, not for your sisters, not for Mom and me." Han was ready for an onslaught of accusations, of fury, but none came.

To Han's surprise, Ben simply nodded.

"How long is Uncle Luke here?" Ben asked, very quietly.

Han thought about it. "At least till we get sick of him."

"You're not already?" Ben joked, cracking the mildest hint of a smile.

"Oh, I only get sick of his gloating when his Glop Monsters beat my Drednoughts," Han said, rolling his eyes.

"Dad, everyone beats your Drednoughts," Ben pointed out.

"Yeah, but I'm a romantic, what can I say?" Han said, breaking into a grin for a moment, but then he grew serious. "Speaking of my Drednoughts, they're on later. Care to join me?"

"I can't leave, in case you haven't noticed!" Ben pointed out.

"I figured we'd watch it here," Han shrugged.

"You're not gonna leave?" Ben asked warily.

"No. Listen, buddy, I don't know what it'll be like. But I can promise you one thing: I'll be with you every step of the way."

"You promise," Ben stated, not as a question.

"Ben, I'm willing to sit in the galaxy's most uncomfortable chair all night long and watch my Drednoughts lose on a holoscreen that's too

small and has bad resolution, just so I can be with you." A grin slanted across his face. "How much more proof do you need?"

"Who're they playing?" Ben asked.

"Coruscant Killers."

"Ooh, I can win some money off you!" Ben smiled his first genuine smile in ages.

Han glowered at him. "Don't push your luck, kid."


End file.
